This Sunset
by Willmaster
Summary: The dying sun will bare witness, glinting from a blade.  Read and review. Also check out This Night and do the same. m!HawkeXAnders


This Sunset.

My feet carried me swift and sure through the dank gloom of Darktown, avoiding the rancid puddles of piss and mud that littered the way. My hand twitched towards the dagger on my belt at every sudden sound; one could not be too careful in Darktown. I could have gone through the basement of my estate, but then again, what is life without a little danger?

It was late in the afternoon; the sun was setting over the calm ocean, bathing the open spaces of Darktown in a fiery orange glow. My destination drew near and I slipped through the open doorway into Anders' Clinic. The man himself was there, poring over some papers at his desk, his back turned to me. The sound of lightly lapping waves outside masked my footsteps as I made my way over to him. Of course, being a mage, he already knew I was there.

"Hawk." He said, turning to face me. "I wasn't sure if you'd come."

I took out the folded parchment note he'd left me and tossed it on the table.

"What do you want?" I asked, slightly irritated. There was a Diamondbacks game going on in the Hanged Man and I _really_ wanted to attend.

"I want to talk, if you're willing." Anders said, looking somewhat uncomfortable. I smiled to myself; I like that he's uncomfortable, and I already know where this conversation is going.

"I'm here, am I not? Start talking."

He looked from the folded note to me, and then frowned slightly. I would have walked out right then if I hadn't found that frown to be revoltingly cute.

"We...do not get along, you and I." He stated, his hands unsure where to rest. He was unprepared, his thoughts disorganised. "I just want to know...why."

I barked out a laugh; this man was as dense as they come.

"Well, let's see. You're an insufferable whining mage with a woe-is-me outlook on life and an obsession with the cruel plight of your fellow mages, something you see as your own personal duty to avenge. You live in a hole in the ground, terrified of some men in fancy armour, and when the odds are against you, you hide behind the skirt of some demon you let possess you."

Oh it was a joy to watch his face as I reeled off every little thing that bothered me about him. I think perhaps his heart was breaking, ever so slightly. His eyes became fixed on the floor, and his entire body was held like that of a broken, defeated old man. He was truly beautiful.

"Is... that everything?" He asked quietly. Fantastic; now despondency.

"Actually, no." I said. I covered the distance between us in three long strides, grabbed him by the shoulders and thrust him against the nearest pillar. The gasp that escaped him did not denote pain, and if it did, he enjoyed it.

"It's blatantly obvious you're attracted to me Anders. You follow me around like a lost puppy, regardless of how much I kick you. And why wouldn't you be? After all, I'm just like you really: you _need_ a little monster in your man." I hissed the last words into his ear, pressing him into the stone with my body, and not even he could deny he loved every moment if it.

"I can feel that, you know." I whispered, shifting my leg between his. "If you weren't such a spineless imbecile you might even be worth the effort."

His head hung low, and I think he might have been on the verge of tears; sweet, delicious misery from my pathetic puppy.

"I think you've made your point." He muttered in defeat. It enraged me, I'll admit. I had not use for a broken puppy. I took his head in my hands and shoved it back against the stone, a harsh crack ringing through the clinic as I did so.

"Stop being such a pathetic worm Anders!" I growled as he winced in pain.

"What? What do you want me to...?"

"If you want me..." I said, cutting him short. I reached between the two of us to molest his arousal that strained against his trousers. "...then be a man and _take_ me!"

And there it was, as clear and bright as the noon sun: the rage of a downtrodden man. His eyes lit up like diamonds in moonlight, and his hands finally found a use for themselves. He grabbed me, hard, by the shoulders and spun me around. It was my turn to feel cold hard stone impacting my spine, and his lips crashing down upon mine. He was not gentle about it, there was no comfort to be had here, it was harsh and brutal and _passionate_. One of his hands gripped me about the neck, as if he intended to strangle me, the other was at the small of my back, pulling me hard against his body. He bit my lip, the little whelp, and I tasted blood in my mouth. It made me grin all the more. Suddenly he threw himself from me, looking shocked and confused.

"_Now_ you're getting the idea!" I crowed with a harsh laugh. I wiped the blood from my lip and made a spectacle of licking it from my fingers. His whole body shivered with repressed desire; that simply would not do.

"Stop it!" He gasped, trying to catch his breath. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Oh for the love of the Maker! You Mages, so fragile, so precious, all because of your fear of truly wielding the power within you!" I all but screamed. I grabbed him by the shirt and threw him across the room. He tumbled to his knees in a patch of brilliant orange sunlight. I walked over to him and drew my dagger, placing the blade against his neck.

"Here is one man you will not break, little Mage." I whispered into his ear. With a deft flick, I severed the strings of his cloak and slid the blade downward, slicing open his shirt as it went. He just sat there while I did it, and when the dagger was thrown aside and I began pulling his garments from him, he did nothing to stop me, until there he was, bare chest and glorious in the sun. My desire for him raged within me.

I knelt behind him, so his form fitted into the front of me perfectly. I gently eased his head back to rest on my shoulder, stroking his hair as I pleased. From brutal to gentle in one swift movement, I know from experience, can be the greatest of pleasures. My hands began an exploration of his body, searching out every dip and curve, every scar and bruise. My lips ghosted over the sublime skin of his neck and jaw, planting light kisses and nipping at the skin. I took one of his hands, lifeless and flaccid as it was, and placed it at the back of my head, threaded into my hair, and held it there. I held it until I felt him take over. He gripped my hair and moaned softly as I ministered to his body's needs. I made short work of his trousers fastenings, only to ease the strain. He sighed in relief, and I revelled in the sound.

"Hawk..." he whispered, his heavy lidded eyes fluttering as my nimble fingers slipped past his waistband. I had never desired older men, but Anders had the body to rival the finest statues of virility in the land. How could I _not_ desire him?

"Hush now, little Mage." I said, running my fingers softly over his brow while my other hand attended to other matters.

"You must learn..." I continued, listening to the tiny gasps and moans that he issued. "...that every blade is made to cut, to damage...but that is not all it _is_. On the surface it is a harsh, cruel weapon, but there is more to see in its beauty."

I stood and pulled him to his feet. He looked resplendent in the dying sunlight, and I kissed him then, not harsh or cruel, but with purpose and perhaps a little skill. He responded in kind, perhaps now coming to some understanding. He lifted my light leather chest-piece off me and pulled my bare form to his.

"Anders, take me to you bed." I said, running my hands through his hair. "Take charge of your heart for once, and let the dying sun bear witness. You needn't fear a blade that was made for you."

Anders slept soundly while I remained awake and watchful. We had discovered, he and I, the depths and breadth of his passions and desires, and I had catered for every single one of them. I accommodated him for every debauched act he could dream up, and he was more than willing to fulfil mine. He made for a cute puppy, an obedient bitch, and a ferocious hound when poked enough.

My body would require a days' rest, at least, after our frivolity. Assuming, of course, I could keep my desire in check and not bend him over every basin I came across, figuratively speaking. Fenris would be pleased to hear of my domination over the Mage, but he would just have to dream that conversation; I would not subject Anders to such embarrassment. He would still be an insufferable dolt, and I shall never deny my seething irritations with the man, but nor would I ever deny the desire for him in my heart. I would never tell him, but the fire in my heart raged brighter for him than any fire in my loins could ever hope to match, and not even all the water in the sea could extinguish either.

"I love you, Hawk." Anders muttered sleepily, cuddling me closer to him. I was not made to cuddle, I was not built for pillow-talk.

"Go to sleep, little Mage." I said with a slight huff. I slipped from the bed and pulled on my trousers.

"Where are you going?" he asked, propping himself up.

"Trust a Mage to exile himself to a stone and straw slab for a bed. I'm going to my bedchamber, somewhere with a _mattress_." I said, picking up my armour and heading for the door. I stopped and turned to his confused and hurt expression. "When I say _I_, that means you too."

We crept to my room and slipped naked under the covers. Thank the maker for feather pillows and Orlesian silk Sheets.

"Hawk...do you love me?" Anders asked beside me. I rolled over and sat astride him, bending low so our bodies touched from groin to chest. His breath caught in his throat.

"I do not _not_ love you Anders." I said, giving him a peck on his nose. His hands gripped my buttocks firmly, and another round wouldn't have been the worse idea ever, but there was no point straining an already strained muscle. I rolled off him and fluffed my pillow.

"I _will_ make you admit it, you know." Anders said, watching me. "I know you do."

"Good luck with that. Now hold me, idiot man, and let's get some sleep. "

He took me in his arms and we settled into one another, and I could hardly wait for the next night to come around.

"What time is it anyway?" he asked with a soothing yawn. He kissed the back of my head and held me close around the chest. I was safe; he would be safe with me.

"It's almost sunrise."


End file.
